


stay frosty

by rosielibrary



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Cold Weather, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 17:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16858279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosielibrary/pseuds/rosielibrary
Summary: Standing in a few inches of snow on this scientist’s patio makes you wonder: what if he really is some crazy old coot? A Doctor Frankenstein-esque madman with various machines and equipment to experiment on you?





	stay frosty

Snow falls in sheets over Gravity Falls, coating the small town in sparkling white. People rush past in thick coats and scarves, tugging gloves over blue-tinted fingers, their heads downcast against the oncoming blizzard. The overhead lamps tint the street yellow as you struggle to keep your balance on the ice on the sidewalk, rubbing your hands together to try and spark warmth between your palms.

You’re hopelessly lost and the snowstorm does nothing to help that; you decided to stop here along the way to your holiday vacation destination, but found that, rather inconveniently, the hotel you planned to stay at had been turned upside down.

No, really. The door sits several stories high in the air and you kick a roof shingle out of your way on the pavement.

You tried asking various townsfolk _why_ the hotel had been flipped around but they rewarded you with three different responses: a shrug, complete ignorance, or “Oh, there’s this weird house in the woods that can tell you _exactly_ why.”

You press the young woman for more with that answer and she grins at you, fixing at her cat-head-shaped earmuffs.

“Oh, yeah! There’s this mysterious mad scientist livin’ in the woods! I’ve only seen him a couple times around town but he was drawing the old hotel yesterday.”

She stares up at it and you follow, catching a flickering light inside.

“I would’ve said hello but nobody talks to him. The only time he’s spoken to me was to ask about the ghost I had in my kitchen that was messing my kitty’s water bowl.”

You ask where to find him— maybe he could magically turn the hotel right-side-up. The woman gives you directions out of the heart of town and down a dirt road to the east.

“Look for the sparks comin’ outta the basement, that’ll mean you’re in the right place!”

Well… she was _certainly _right about that.__

__You stand in front of an angular house surrounded by pine trees, shrouded in snow and darkness. The windows are thankfully illuminated with warm light and you tentatively walk to the front door, taking your (unfortunately gloveless) hand from your pocket and knocking three times. Since you’re not thudding through the snow anymore, your body feels frozen still, fingers pink with cold and lips dry. Your toes feel frozen in your boots and you’re fairly certain your eyelashes have frost on them._ _

__Standing in a few inches of snow on this scientist’s patio makes you wonder: what if he really is some crazy old coot? A Doctor Frankenstein-esque madman with various machines and equipment to experiment on you?_ _

__You’re shivering from the negative degree temperature but a chill runs down your spine. Maybe that sweet earmuffed lady gave you more than you bargained for._ _

__The lock clicks— then another, a third, a fourth. Warmth passes over your form as the light hits you, and you blink a few times before looking up._ _

__Well… He’s no old coot, to say the least. This “mad scientist” is almost illegally handsome._ _

__You both study each other for a solid thirty seconds, allowing you to drink in his sharp jawline, aquiline nose and warm eyes, staring down into yours in surprise. His hair, brown and disheveled, pushes back against his forehead from the wind outside, and snowflakes gather atop the lenses of his thick glasses, which he promptly takes off and wipes clear on his shirt._ _

__… Wait a minute. You recognize those hands—_ _

__“… Stanford? Stanford Pines?”_ _

__He flinches in surprise, staring at you with squinted eyes for a moment._ _

__“… Wait. You’re— Oh my gosh, my lab partner from Biological Anthropology class! I haven’t seen you in— Wait, come in, it’s freezing—“_ _

__He ushers you in, a wide hand on your shoulder to guide you toward the warm. The door shuts behind him and the roar of the storm outside goes almost mute._ _

__“Are you alright?”_ _

__His deep voice startles you to attention and you reply through chattering teeth that you’re okay, but _jeez_ it’s cold outside. The man smiles, looking over his shoulder through the window._ _

__“Snow isn’t irregular up here… still an inconvenience. Here, um, let me find you a… there we go.”_ _

__He drapes the blanket from the sofa over your shoulders and you clutch at the fabric, taking in whatever warmth you could. It smells like pine trees, somehow, and you bring it to your face to breathe in the scent. Taking a look around the room you see thick-spined books in teetering towers next to full bookshelves, notebook paper crumpled into balls inside (and around) the wire trashcan, and a bright red, scruffy-looking journal on the coffee table. It has no title; only a six-fingered gold hand with a large “1” written on top._ _

__“I can’t believe… What are you _doing_ here? Of all places? I thought after college you moved back home?”_ _

__You explain your situation with the hotel, the lady with the cat-muffs, and now… You’re here. Standing in front of your lab partner from years ago. …Who somehow got super attractive (and muscular?? What the hell??) in the time you’d spent apart. You remember him as such a quiet, sweet, nerdy guy… Not to say you didn’t, ahem, have a crush on him back then either. But now… You could say he’s _grown_ , to say the least._ _

__Tearing your gaze from checking him out, you thank Ford (his old nickname comes to mind nearly immediately) for letting you in in the first place, even when he didn’t know it was you._ _

__“Ah, well… You needed help, and I’m happy to give that. Even if you weren’t… You.” His small smile makes your cheeks lose all of the cold in them at once and you know you’ve gone a little pink._ _

__Thankfully he doesn’t notice, guiding you through his home to the kitchen, where he asks you to sit and if you’d like a warm drink of any kind. You answer with your beverage of choice as you take a chair at his kitchen table, pulling the blanket around your shoulders._ _

__Ford goes quiet as he makes your drinks and you get a chance to examine— or stare at— him while he works. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, he looks perfectly casual (and much less geeky since he’s ditched the sweater vest and bow-tie combo), but you can’t help but notice the muscles in his back work against the thin fabric, or how soft his hair looks at the nape of his neck. Suddenly you’re too hot, and it’s not from the increased thermostat._ _

__He sits at the opposite chair with two mugs in hand, sliding one in front of you. You cup the mug and relish in the warmth transferring to your palms. Ford takes a sip from his— coffee, you smell. Black coffee— and watches you carefully. There’s something about his stare that intimidates you, but you stare right back until he breaks, averting his eyes to the table’s surface. You could’ve sworn he’s blushing, for some reason._ _

__Cutting through the silence, you ask him why he moved here after getting his (multiple) doctorates. A small nowhere town like this seemed like such an odd place for a genius like him. He takes the compliment in stride, puffing out his chest a little before launching into an explanation._ _

__“You may not believe me, but… This town is… Strange. There’s an onslaught of anomalies centered here, in this tiny place outside Roadkill County, and none of the citizens seem to mind— or notice. Susan— the woman with the… cat-muffs, as you put it— seems to be the only person that’s noticed the Twin Oaks hotel turned 180 on a vertical axis, and I can’t help but wonder why.”_ _

__You ask if people just decided to ignore it, since it was so peculiar. People could see it but blatantly ignore it, after all. Ford furrows his brow, seriously thinking about your pitch._ _

__“I… I suppose that could be it. Maybe they know, but it scares them too much to really think about it. Hm.”_ _

__He looks up at you and there’s a light in his eyes; something curious and full of fire, something that makes your skin tingle under his gaze. You remember it well from your class together._ _

__“I never thought of it that way. That’s a rather intelligent idea, especially since you’ve not been here long.”_ _

__You have your moments, you joke, sitting up straighter and putting your hands to your waist, superhero-style. He laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose._ _

__“You did when we were in class, after all. I lucked out with such an intelligent lab partner.”_ _

__It’s your turn to take a compliment, but you do it with less finesse— you feel your face tint red and you quietly thank him, the guy with, like, twelve PHDs, for calling you smart._ _

__“— Actually, you’re taking all of this in stride; have you seen any creatures around here? Weird things that shouldn’t exist?”_ _

__You quip with an allegation that you saw a giant hand try and grab your car from within the trees and laugh, but Ford looks elated._ _

__“Did you really— Oh my gosh! It took my car too! Did you see anything other than the hand? A face, an eye, maybe? Wait, let me get my—“_ _

__You start giggling before Ford finishes his sentence and admit that you were only teasing him. Though if there is a giant out there in the forest, you’d certainly love to see it. At that, at least, Ford grins at you._ _

__“Well… I’ll have to take you to see if we can find Ste— _the giant_ at some point.”_ _

__After that, a solid minute of silence overtakes you and Ford. Instead of an awkward pause, the two of you just watch each other, smiling, before you break and look down into your mug— but you feel Ford’s gaze burning into the top of your head._ _

__“I know we haven’t, ahem, seen each other in a while… But would you want to watch a movie? With me? — I-I don’t have many, but… I figure it would be the best way to spend time while you wait out the storm. We could, uh— catch up, I suppose. It’s been a while; I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to.”_ _

__You say yes, of course, conveniently finishing the rest of your drink. A drop falls from your bottom lip and trickles down your neck— Ford watches it intently. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat with his heavy swallow._ _

__The sudden attention makes you flush red but you stand, washing your mug in the sink as Ford stays sitting down, seemingly in a daze. The mug goes on the drying rack and you turn to face him, asking quietly about the movie._ _

__“— Oh! Yes! Let’s see…”_ _

__Ford heads to the living room and ducks below his television set, rummaging through a cardboard box labeled “LIVING ROOM” sitting on its left. He has mostly books, you notice, evident by the full bookshelves around the entire house. However, he has a small collection of VHS tapes that he pulls out in an armful, stacking them on the coffee table with the spines of the cases facing you._ _

__“I moved in quite a while ago but never got around to unpacking these… Never really watch them, I suppose.”_ _

__You remember him with his nose in a book rather than paying attention to films, you joke, and Ford rubs the back of his neck, almost embarrassed to admit it. You scan the stack of tapes over and pick out a movie you’re surprised he owns._ _

__“— _Alien?_ Oh, have you not seen it? It’s one of the more accurate horror films out there… The alien designs are well-done and the space travel mechanics add up, so—“_ _

__Of course he would like a horror movie based on the science stuff, you giggle. Ford blushes pink to the tips of his ears, but once he sees your warm smile he relaxes a little. Hopefully he didn’t think you were being mean._ _

__He puts the tape in and settles on his couch, tucked into a corner. You sit adjacent, but keep a reasonable distance across with your blanket around your shoulders._ _

__A quarter through the film, you notice Ford rubbing his upper arms, a small family of goosebumps raised on his skin. He elected to sit in the corner— right in front of the window, glass frosted over— and you suppose you took his only blanket. … Well, you have some sort of an idea. A rather cliche idea, but an idea nonetheless._ _

__You oh so casually scoot to Ford’s side of the sofa and throw the blanket over both of you, covering up to your shoulders and his chest (he’s quite a bit taller). Ford pulls his attention from the film to stare at you incredulously, like he forgot you were there for a moment, but he relaxes and, for lack of a better word, _snuggles_ under the blanket with a small smile tugging at his lips._ _

__The film fills the room after that. You’re both enraptured, watching intently and forgetting the whole “catching up” thing. Whoops. At a more quiet, tense moment, you realize that Ford’s shoulder presses against yours on the couch. One particularly _terrifying_ jump-scare makes both of you jolt and you grab the sofa cushion on instinct._ _

__Ford, however, grabs your thigh._ _

__Double whoops._ _

__He doesn’t realize at first, but after a beat he flinches— yet doesn’t move his hand. Ford sputters with apologies, red-cheeked and mortified. You decide to take a chance on this… convenient moment._ _

__You quietly say his name to silence him and thankfully he stops, lips slightly parted on the cusp of his next word. With a nervous gulp you lean forward and kiss him, softly, carefully, and as you’re pulling away you’re almost worried for his reaction._ _

__You were scared he’d push you away in horror. You didn’t expect him yank you back against him, curling all twelve fingers into your shirt._ _

__The movie’s forgotten at this point. Ford tilts his head against yours, hands sliding down to your hips and tugging you forward. Taking the initiative, you swing a leg over his lap and sit atop him as he flings the blanket to the other end of the sofa. You’d get too hot in this situation anyway. He looks surprised but you cut off his question of “Are you sure abou—“ with another kiss, pressing your chest against his and carding eager fingers through his messy hair. You’re sure._ _

__Ford’s nervous, you can tell, but your reassuring touches give him the non-verbal comfort he needs. Hands sliding up his chest, toying with the collar of his t-shirt, you cupping his jaw, tongue dragging across his bottom lip. Ford’s fingers curl against your waist but he can’t seem to decide where his hands go after that: the slide up your waist to your shoulders, down the curve of your spine, pausing at the small of your back before bravely slipping into your back pockets, curiously grabbing at your ass to gauge a reaction. At your quiet moan against his mouth he squeezes again, sliding hands down your thighs and gently pushing you away for a moment._ _

__“I… I have to— catch my breath,” Ford pants, his chest heaving under your palms. You smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb and asking if he was alright— in general and with… _this_._ _

__“Oh— Oh my goodness, _yes I’m alright with_ — I’ve wanted, uh. I’ve wanted this.” He looks away from you, bashful. “I… wanted _you_ all through our time together in the lab. I was just too scared to ask you to go with me for coffee or— or whatever other dates we could have tried.”_ _

__You ask why he didn’t ask— he must’ve seen you staring at him with that dazed look in your eye, constantly getting caught and stammering about “something on his face” or “crooked glasses” so you’d have an excuse to get closer. Ford coughs, blinking up at you in shock._ _

__“And here I thought I missed my chance.”_ _

__It’s your turn to blush as Ford pulls you back against him, both of you decidedly braver this round. You get to work on shimmying his shirt off after he pulls yours over your head. He falters for a minute ( _Well um wow let me just uh-huh yeah it’s real_ ) before winding both arms around you, gently touching the newly exposed skin like you’re made of glass. Something hard— well, you know _exactly_ what that something is— brushes against the inside of your thigh through his jeans and you grind against it, smirking against Ford’s neck when he gasps aloud. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, you lightly drag your fingernails down his chest and to his belt, unbuckling it and heading straight to the zipper beneath. Ford pauses, hands on your hips, watching you carefully unzip his fly to reveal the waistband of his boxers._ _

__You look at each other, breathing heavily, both shocked at how far this “movie night to weather out the blizzard” went. The movie’s credits stopped rolling a while ago but neither of you noticed the quiet hum of the TV’s static until now._ _

__“Let me, uh… I’ll turn it off.” You climb off Ford’s lap and he stands, going to switch off the TV— and while his back’s turned you quietly slip the rest of your clothes off. Just to see what happens._ _

__He goes to head back to the sofa but stops dead in his tracks when he sees you, face (and even part of his chest, now that you can see it) a deep cherry red. The hand holding his pants up slacks and they drop to his feet; it would be almost comical if not for the nearly primal look in his eye. He takes two careful steps forward (sliding out of his jeans fairly gracefully) and almost _falls_ to his knees in front of you, taking both of your hands in his and reverently kissing your knuckles._ _

__Then comes the yank and he’s got you pinned on the floor. What a power move._ _

__It’s silent as he pulls himself out of his boxers and adjusts himself in front of you, but once he finally starts to enter you both of you make similar noises of pleasure and you both look to the other in shock. It’s you who starts sputtering with giggles first and Ford soon follows, shaking his head at you with a fond smile. Once they subside you nod at him, and he bites his bottom lip as he slowly pushes into you._ _

__Any awkwardness in the air disappears once you grab his shoulders, nails digging half-moons into his skin. That sets the rhythm from there; Ford leans down onto his forearms as he fucks you and kisses you again, harder, adding an out-of-character bottom lip bite and tug that makes you groan. He breathes heavily against your neck between peppering your shoulder with kisses and sucks at the skin against your pulse, leaving a soon-to-be bruise under your jaw. You scratch his shoulders, his spine, trying to grip anything for something to hold onto until Ford (somehow) grabs your hands, one at a time, and pins you to the ground, quickening his pace._ _

__As hot as that was Ford doesn’t last long, as a few “oh” and “oh god”’s alert you to him pulling out and kneeling above you as he finishes himself off. He manages to catch everything in his hand and quickly reaches for the tissue-box on the coffee table, wiping his palm clean. Ish. As soon as he realizes you didn’t finish, though, Ford ducks between your legs and does the job for you, making you come just a few minutes after he did with a cry of his name and fingers curling into his hair._ _

__Ford flops onto his back on the floor with a loud exhale, and both of you catch your breath for a moment, naked on his carpet. He cranes his neck to look at you._ _

__“So… How about that catching up thing?”_ _


End file.
